Wibbly Wobbly One-Shots
by Radar1388
Summary: All the time in the universe, just for them. The time traveler and his companion. Drabbles, one shots. Fluff. Will take requests.
1. Something New

_* Hello fellow Whovians! Welcome to my first Doctor Who fiction. I'm only asking one thing: Don't go easy on me. I want constructive criticism. I plan for this story to be a compilation of drabbles, therefore, I wish to improve as I go along. I love it when people tell me if they like my story, but I love constructive criticism more._

_I've been wanting to write for this fandom for a while, and I hope you guys enjoy it!_

_I referenced the mini-sode: _Children in Need: Born Again. _I also referenced a deleted scene from_ Christmas Invasion.

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who at all._**

Something New

"_Further than we've ever gone before!"_

She watched as the Doctor skipped this way and that, flicking toggles and smacking various buttons along the way. As he prattled on about their next adventure, Rose couldn't help but stare. The brusque and cheeky personality wearing a leather jacket was replaced with a light-hearted gob in a pinstripe suit. Her Doctor no longer sprinted around the TARDIS console, no longer asked where she wanted to go next.

Her Doctor was gone.

Sighing through her nose, Rose stepped back a few paces to lean against a coral strut near the jump seat. Her memories were fuzzy. She certainly remembered looking into the heart of the TARDIS, but beyond that… The Doctor had said that his regeneration was the only way to save her, but she didn't care. Rose knew the risk of looking into the heart and she took it, knowing that the Doctor would survive even if she perished. She hadn't even considered that the Doctor would be able to-

"Rose." Her gaze snapped to the owner of the soft, yet strong voice that she was still getting used to. The Doctor's excited grin slipped slightly upon meeting his companion's gaze. "Watcha think?"

"Sorry," Rose shook her head, faintly embarrassed at her inattentiveness. "'Bout what?"

"Well," he stretched out the word as he spun a dial, stepping closer to Rose at the same time. "I wanted to take you to Barcelona, but that's not exactly _far_ enough." He pulled a lever and they both took in the familiar wheezing of the TARDIS landing in a new time, a new place.

"If not Barcelona," Rose asked. "Then where?"

The Doctor nodded towards the TARDIS doors. "See for yourself."

Regardless if she still felt cautious around this Doctor, she didn't need telling twice. She spun around and dashed forward, reaching for the doorknob.

"Right, then," the Doctor exclaimed with a wide grin, tossing on his trench coat. "Allons-y!" Rose turned to face him bemusedly. "What," he asked. "I told you. 'Fantastic' doesn't fit the teeth anymore, had to find something different to say, didn't I? Don't you like it?"

"I do," Rose nodded, but her gaze shifted to the floor. After a pause, she said, "I guess I'm still getting used to…well…" She finally looked the Doctor in the eye. His eyebrows came together before he suddenly smacked his own forehead in realization.

"It's the hair, isn't it? Full head of hair!" His hands came up to rifle through the brown mess of locks. "No," he asked after Rose gave him a funny look. "I would say it's the mole, but _you_ can't really feel the mole." Rose chuckled lightly as he hunched a bit and rolled his shoulders. Then, the Doctor tugged at his cloak. "Unless you were talking about the trench coat. Bit too much?" He spread his arms out for dramatic effect.

"No, no. I wasn't talking about the way you look, I…" Rose looked to the floor again, trying to find the words to sum up how she felt about this new Doctor, this new man she'd be seeing every day. She quickly realized, though, that her search wouldn't take long, for the answer was right in front of her. Literally.

"Although," she started, not looking up. "The sand shoes could use a bit of work." Rose then gave him her famous tongue-in-teeth smile.

"Oi," the Doctor said with a frown, leaning his head back as if whiplashed. "At least _I'm_ not the one who insists on being _pink_ and _yellow_ every day! Ooh, rude," the Doctor suddenly started murmuring to himself. "Still a bit rude."

Rose chuckled, and then exhaled. "Just give me some time, yeah?" Her eyes flashed back to the shoes. When she leaned herself against the handrails leading down to the TARDIS doors, she finally looked back up to make more solid eye contact with the Doctor.

Trying to finish her sentence, she felt her mouth gaping slightly like a fish. Though she did deeply miss the Doctor's blue eyes, she was somehow unable to look away from the dark brown orbs staring back at her.

Since his regeneration, being bed-ridden, and battling the Sycorax leader, neither of them had had a decent amount of time to exactly take in each other's company. Of course, Rose had hardly left the Doctor's side while he was ill, but even then, she felt like she couldn't get a good look at him. Now she knew why.

This Doctor was new. New hair, new face, new _eyes_. And she assumed she would feel out of place or even intimidated under his stare. Instead she felt a gentle warmth as they firmly held each other's gaze.

Not breaking eye contact at all, Rose inhaled before finishing her statement. "You never know," she said, pursing her lips. "Maybe I'll get used to the...sand shoes." The two travelers smiled at the very same time, and Rose quickly stifled a gasp.

There it was, that exuberance. There was a child-like spark that the Doctor always had in his eyes, and here it remained, with the new Doctor.

_Her _new Doctor.

"Well, lucky for you, Miss Tyler," her Doctor said, patting a coral strut affectionately. "I just so happen to have a time machine." He reached over and turned the doorknob with a flick of the wrist, allowing the door to swing open just a crack. A thin band of sunlight filtered in. "And these shoes need breaking in."

"Expect more running this time?" Rose playfully quirked an eyebrow.

"Rose Tyler and the Doctor running for their lives everywhere they go?" The Doctor hummed, trying to hide a smile. "Completely unheard of."

Rose's tongue poked between her teeth again as her feet started guiding her out the door, the Doctor following close behind. She thought she would need some time to get used to this Doctor. Even if she _didn't_ need it, they both lived in a time machine.

They had all the time in the universe.

_* Yes, I know that the Doctor doesn't say Allons-y quite yet, but I needed something to work with right there. _

_Hey, just letting you folks know, I take requests. Something I did in a previous story that I wrote were __**one-word one-shots**__. In a nutshell, if you guys give me just one word, I'll write a one-shot around that word. Even if you don't have just one word, I'll try and take any request(s) you may have, even AU's._


	2. Lost in Translation

_* The reason why I changed the title to "Wibbly Wobbly One-Shots", was because there actually is going to be a recurring theme. These stories aren't going to be in any certain order, as well as also accepting requests for AU's. _

_I referenced the episode **"Tooth and Claw"**._

Lost in Translation

Rose felt her teeth grinding together before she scribbled frantically over the page then clapped the journal shut. The smack of the leather-bound book against the coffee table echoed through the library, the resonance weaving around stacks of books and infinite shelves. She stared offensively at the scads of books in front of her, not one of them giving her a decent key or guide. Not even the TARDIS would translate the language, and it would be dead useful if she did.

Rose was about to stand up and make a move for the console room just down the hall, but quickly caught herself. "Damn it," she swiftly muttered as she sat back down and took back the journal, refusing to give up. Balancing it on one knee, she leaned forward and took a thick, musty book from the middle of one of the many piles strewn in front of her, balancing that on the other knee.

It was out of curiosity, and from needing a small break from sketching, that she opened the older book to the copyright page to look at the publication date. The book appeared ancient with the damaged spine and a layer of caked-on dust.

Rose's eyes widened when she found the date, then shook her head before proceeding further into its pages. "I don't want to know how he got a book from_ that_ century," she muttered, still not certain whether the book came from hundreds of years in the past, or thousands of years into her future. She only stopped skimming when she thought she found a key to show her how to translate the confounding language. She sighed, picked up a pencil – the pens she found earlier had run out of ink – and got to work. Aside from a few variations, the key she found was pretty much the same as in the other tomes. Though, really, it's hard to tell when you're looking through a book written in the same language you're trying to translate.

As if it would further her concentration, she reached up to flick on an oil lamp mounted on the wall behind her. Then, like a power surge, the lamp, the chandelier, and the rest of the lights in the library flickered. "What's wrong, old girl," Rose asked the TARDIS, now used to when the ship was 'speaking'. That was when a set of footsteps coming from down the hall met her ears.

Repeating her curse from earlier, Rose started to frantically gather up the books and put them back on their respective shelves. In the few seconds that she had, Rose would sometimes drop a pencil, a book, or, at once, a pile of documents. The TARDIS hummed jauntily around her. "Oh, do shut up," she grumbled irately at the ship.

"Rose, I found it!"

Just as that cheery voice rang out into the library, Rose had just finished putting the last book away. With a relieved sigh, she leaned heavily against the shelf. Right on cue, the Doctor strolled in carrying a small vinyl in hand.

"Been looking for this everywhere," he exclaimed joyously, too transfixed to look up at Rose. The Doctor blew a thin layer of dust from the disc. "Got this one in 1979, and don't regret it! A prize was even going to be given to the one-millionth buyer." His eyes flickered a brief second to meet Rose's before a grimace marred his ever-happy grin. "They lied about the prize, I still haven't gotten it." At not hearing his companion's usual chuckle, he gazed at her a bit steadier. "Is everything all right? You look exhausted," he said, stuffing the disc in a suit pocket.

"Yeah, everything's fine." Pushing herself from the bookshelf, she tried to remain casual as she turned her head to crack her stiff neck. "I've just been mucking about here for a few…" Her voice drifted when they both glanced down, the leather journal still sitting rather smugly on the centre of the coffee table. _Damn it!_

"Where'd you find this one at," the Doctor asked, putting on his spectacles and sitting down on one of the camelback sofas. He picked up the book and began flicking idly through its pages.

Rose exhaled and leaned on the back of the sofa behind the Doctor. "I found it with all of your other Gallifreyan books," she shrugged. "I couldn't help myself."

"How did it get in here, though?" His eyebrows furrowed. "I know every book on every shelf in this library, Rose, and I've never seen _this_ one. I'd say it's some sort of journal," he speculated, going back a few pages to look at a particular design that had caught his eye. "But there's no rhyme nor reason to any of these words."

That was when Rose felt herself deflate. _Hours!_ She'd been working for countless hours just to perfect some of these words, not even getting halfway through the book, and here was the Doctor telling her that whoever wrote in it certainly had no idea what they were doing.

Which was true. She was clueless when it came to his language, but it still hurt to hear her best friend say it aloud. Now wishing to be as far as possible from the room, she started turning away, and was about to ask the Doctor where they were going next until he interrupted her.

"Your name's in here."

Rose perked up at his voice. "What?"

Without looking away from the book, he used two fingers to beckon her to join him. Biting her lip, she joined him on the couch. Despite her current embarrassment with her writing skills, Rose still found herself blushing when the Doctor drew in close to her, allowing their shoulders to lean against each other.

He pointed at an amalgamation of lines and circles on one page. "That's your name," he said. Rose blinked. Of course, that was what she was going for on that page, but even she was confused at how he could read such a sloppy mess of squiggles.

"Mind you…" He drew back, but still kept their shoulders together. "The execution's a bit crude." _Thanks_, Rose huffed tetchily. "But it's the fact that there isn't a Gallifreyan word for 'Rose'. The name and the flower didn't exist on my planet, so this can't have been written by one of my people. Hang on." He suddenly held the book up to his face and took a long whiff of the page.

_At least he didn't lick it_, Rose thought.

"The ink's fresh." The Doctor slowly pulled the book from his face. "This was written today." After a pause, he turned his gaze at Rose rather expectantly. Not knowing exactly what the Doctor wanted from her, she still couldn't stop herself from asking.

"Why won't the TARDIS translate Gallifreyan," she blurted.

"Why would it need to," the Doctor countered lightly, much to Rose's confusion. "You know how the TARDIS translates everything into English for you?" Rose nodded. "Well, with Gallifreyan being my native language, everything can be translated into Gallifreyan for me. And given that the TARDIS is also from Gallifrey, she doesn't feel the need to translate Gallifrey for anyone at all."

As if something bit him, the Doctor suddenly shot up from the couch. Rose's questioning only furthered when the Doctor started bustling about the room, grabbing multiple books, pencils, and paper. Dumping it all on the coffee table, he took his place next to Rose again and plucked a book with an insignia on the binding that looked akin to a vertical infinity symbol.

"What're you doing," Rose finally asked.

"Hold this." The Doctor placed the book on her lap, opening it to a lightly torn page with various Gallifreyan words and a tree drawn towards the bottom left. He grabbed a pencil and the leather journal, turning it to a fresh, blank page. Rose felt her jaw drop as he began writing briskly in Circular Gallifreyan. Something that had taken Rose so long to do was taking the Doctor only seconds. After erasing a few extra lines, the Doctor gave her the journal to look at.

"What's it say," she asked after a minute.

Patiently, the Doctor turned to the page where she'd written her name, and then back to his own rendition. "Blimey," she whispered, mostly to herself, but the Doctor did catch it. Her drawing had so many etchings and mistakes, while the Doctor's version was written flawlessly.

"You were doing everything right," the Doctor assured.

"Don't lie to me," Rose snapped at him. She handed the book back to him in frustration. "Compared to yours, mine's awful."

The Doctor scoffed lightly. "You think that's awful, you should've seen me when I first started writing this. It was like Hieroglyphics meets Geometry. Scribbles all this way and that." He took the pencil and made an erratic slicing motion with his hand, causing a smile to creep onto Rose's face. The Doctor gave himself a moment to revel in the fact that he made his Rose chuckle. "I was rubbish at writing," he said, almost nostalgically.

"How'd you get better at it?" Rose leaned in a bit closer.

"Sometimes my friends and my family would give me pointers. Even the TARDIS taught me a thing or two. It's good to have a teacher." He turned, curling his leg under him in order to fully face his companion. "Speaking of which, how come you didn't ask me for help?"

"I wanted to try it on my own," Rose replied honestly before her voice dropped a little quieter. "And I was hoping to impress you."

"Well, you've done that already," the Doctor exclaimed casually. He took the journal and held up her version of her name for both to see. "You figured out on your own that Gallifreyan is written anti-clockwise, and you've managed to even get a rough alphabet down. Good work on that." He paused to point at a few spots on the page. "The only issues are misplaced lines. Oh," he said, scribbling a small dot onto the page. "And one missing circle."

"Thank you," Rose said with sincerity. "That's going to be great for future reference."

The Doctor nodded. "And something to go off of for tomorrow's lesson." At her stunned silence, he tugged at his ear sheepishly. "Unless you don't….want me to…"

"You mean, you want to teach me?"

"That's what I had this book out for," he said, gesturing to the heavy book still sitting in her lap. "This book is a geographical layout of parts of Gallifrey. The words in this one are shorter and easier to read. Great for someone who's just learning Gallifreyan."

She opened up her journal to a new page and started jotting down a few new words, but stopped when her eyes fell on a small cluster of circles and lines. In fascination, she said, "they had silver trees on Gallifrey?"

His eyebrows came together. Of course Gallifrey had silver-leaved trees, but the artist's drawing in the book was black and white. "Where are you getting 'silver' at," he asked curiously.

"I'm reading it wrong," Rose said rather dejectedly, pointing to the words she'd found. "Aren't I?"

"If you were reading it wrong," he gave a light chuckle as he read. "I'd be lying." The Doctor cast a gaze in Rose's direction, hoping that the pride he was conveying in his voice was obvious, and, by the way Rose was beaming, it was.

"Think you can teach me some sentences," she asked enthusiastically.

"For sure, but at a later date," he said, digging through a pocket to fish out the vinyl. He flashed Rose the artist title of 'Ian Dury and the Blockheads'. "I still want to show you this."


	3. Lucid

Lucid

Semi-consciousness was an odd state.

There, you could switch rapidly between fantasy and reality like it was nothing. You could walk back and forth between dreams and actuality at the drop of a hat. Through the semi-conscious, you had the power to choose where you wanted, which place you desired to be. It could be especially fortunate if you reached that certain lucidity that declared fact from fiction.

As Rose tossed and turned, twisting in her duvet, she wasn't so fortunate.

Through a dark menacing haze surrounding her mind, Rose just barely registered that she wasn't within the terrible place of her nightmares, but writhing helplessly in bed. However, she couldn't control anything. She couldn't wake herself up or will her dream into something kinder.

She felt her room around her, the soft fabric of the sheets, the fragrance of a burnt-out incense stick on the nightstand, the soft light of the bedside lamp filtering around her closed eyes. She desperately clutched at the blankets, at anything, but found nothing of purchase, nothing to fight back with. The dark haze was tugging, pulling her further from the sanctity of her bedroom, away from the TARDIS. The last thing she felt in her haze was her mouth parting in a silent, distressful cry.

The darkness wrenched her back under.

Blackness surrounded her, smothered her into submission as she curled in on herself. This nightmare held no images, not even light, just sound. It rustled and gave a grating song that scratched at her ears. It was the sound of porcelain clattering loudly, and combined with the sound of a closing door, Rose's eyes snapped open at once.

Thanks to the lamp, she was momentarily blinded when she bolted upright. Blinking the sleep and moisture gathering around her eyes, she tried to focus on where she now was, rather than previously. Taking a shaky breath, she ran hand through her frazzled hair and tried to concentrate on the remnant scent of the incense stick, but instead her senses were flooded with the heady warmth of chamomile and jasmine.

Through the dim light, Rose squinted to see the faint outline of a tea tray atop her dressing table next to the door. The aroma coming from the tray was making her sleepy once more, but before she could flop back onto the pillows, her ears pricked at the shuffling of footsteps coming from outside in the hallway. She huffed, then opened her mouth to sleepily shoo the Doctor away, but the footsteps ceased. They _hadn't_ receded down the hall to announce his departing.

They had stopped directly in front of her door.

Sighing tiredly through her nose, Rose swung her legs over the side of the bed. Once her feet soundly met the fibers of the carpet, she stood and walked stiffly to the door. After a brief inspection of the tea steaming in their cups, and upon remembering that she wasn't the one who set them there, Rose turned the doorknob.

Rose's body was telling her that it was the middle of the night. And whether it was for her benefit in her knackered state, or to give the illusion of time passing, the door opened to a very dim hallway with the only light coming from tiny LED's dotted across the floor that only came on during her sleep cycle. 'Cinema lights', she'd called them.

Rose expected him to be directly in front of her, an ever-excited grin plastered to his face, his hand twitching out to grab her own and race her down the halls to the console room for another adventure. However, like every day, it seemed, she was always met with the unexpected when it came to him. This night was no different.

Instead of her giddy and enthusiastic best friend, she was met with a cross-legged, collected Time Lord sitting up against the wall farthest from her, arms folded serenely in his lap. Upon her appearance, the two time travelers locked eyes.

"Hello," the Doctor greeted softly with a light smile. Though, she didn't smile back, she routinely replied in kind, and the Doctor's smile widened at the equal softness in her voice, happy that she didn't seem angry for the untimely – yet _very_ timely – wake up.

"What-" She was cut off by a wide yawn, and this time the Doctor didn't even try to catch himself when he thought it was adorable. "What time is it?"

The TARDIS gave a hum around them. And instead of the "time is relative" spiel, he said simply, "The TARDIS says it's around 2:30 for you."

Rose pointed back to her bedroom. "The tea?"

"Thought you could use some for when you wake up."

"First time you've done that."

"First time the TARDIS brought to my attention that you were having a nightmare." He scratched the back of his neck with a grimace. "A particularly nasty one, by the look of it."

"Don't worry," Rose shrugged, leaning against the doorway. "Give me a few more hours of sleep and I'll be over it." Rose missed it when the Doctor's grimace softened. "And then we can be off on…wherever it is you have in mind."

The Doctor tilted his head. "Sorry?"

Rose blinked. "Well, that's what you came here for, right? You're ready for another adventure and it couldn't wait 'til morning. Wouldn't be the first time you've done that." She waggled in eyebrow in mock-accusation, her playfulness at their routine bantering briefly masking her sleep deprivation.

"I told you," the Doctor countered with a slight frown. "You were having a nightmare, so I brought you tea."

Rose let a floored pause mingle in the air. The Doctor was still sitting on the floor across from her, and for once he wasn't knocking at her door solely to show her more planets or another time.

"You're here," Rose said, probably slower than necessary. "_only _because I had a bad dream_._" The Doctor nodded mutely, instantly. She pursed her lips. "How long have you been out here?"

"Since I brought the tea."

"How long ago was that?"

It was his turn to purse his lips. "Ooh. I'd say…near two hours."

Rose shook her head. "Sorry. Misheard you. Two minutes, you said?"

"No," he replied calmly. "Two hours," he repeated to Rose's amazement. "Don't worry," the Doctor explained with a clever grin, holding up the sonic screwdriver. "The tea would've kept nice and hot all night if it had to."

Her jaw dropped on its own accord while her mind tried coming to grips that her hyperactive Doctor had been outside her bedroom door for two hours straight. Sure, they've had times were one needed to comfort the other after their adventures, but why on _Earth_ did the Doctor feel compelled to wait _two hours_ for her. "Blimey," she whispered. "I bet it was two full hours of pacing, yeah?"

"Just sitting," he said with a slight grin, and rocked in place for a bit of emphasis.

Rose spluttered a little. "You could've…I don't know…came in."

The Doctor nudged his chin towards her bedroom. "Your door was locked." Rose pointed to the sonic screwdriver that was being fidgeted from hand to hand. The Doctor's grimace returned. "I've barged into previous companions' bedrooms before. They either don't take kindly to it, tolerate it, or…" He cleared his throat and felt a faint blush rise to his cheeks. "they have them locked for a reason."

"But you knew I wasn't doing anything…like that," Rose said, clearing her throat. "It was a bad dream." She gave a soft, but dramatic, sigh. "And I always thought that the dashing hero was supposed to swoop in and save the damsel." The Doctor's grin widened at seeing Rose's tongue-in-teeth smile.

"I just didn't want you to be cross with me." Rose jumped when the Doctor bolted to his feet, some of his usual exuberance returning. "So, I waited out here, should you really have needed me."

Rose nodded, mouthing an 'okay'. "But just so we're clear," she said as the Doctor walked to stand a few inches from her. "I had a nightmare...so you brought me tea...and you've have been sitting out here for two hours..." The Doctor tried not focusing on her mouth as she licked her lips trying to find the right words. "Guarding me?"

The Doctor's eyes brightened significantly, almost pompously at her words. "I didn't think about it like that, but yes!" He straightened up and tugged at the lapels of his suit. "And you say the hero doesn't take care of the damsel."

Rose chuckled. "I didn't know you could sit still for that long."

"Well," he drew out the word. "I didn't want to enter your bedroom, and I certainly wasn't about to _ignore_ you. So, I did the next best thing."

"By guarding me," she clarified, her smile refusing to leave her face.

"By guarding you," he said, matching her grin.

Rose giggled again before closing the unwanted gap between them. The Doctor wrapped his arms comfortably around her waist while Rose's arms took their place around his neck.

"Thank you," Rose exhaled against the crook of his neck, and felt the Doctor's arms tighten. "I still kind of wish you would've woken me up, but I understand where you were coming from. And I'm definitely feeling much better now."

"Think you can go back to sleep," the Doctor murmured against her hair, trying to hide his disappointment.

Rose nodded, stepping away, and the Doctor used a hum to mask his groan of protest. "Night, Doctor."

"Goodnight, Rose."

Before either could be on their way, the TARDIS hummed and flashed some lights above their heads. The Doctor's eyebrows furrowed. "What incense sticks," he asked the ceiling.

"Oh." Rose's voice caught the Doctor's attention. "Thanks for reminding me," Rose said, patting the doorframe affectionately. She turned to the Doctor. "Next time we're in Cardiff, I need to get more incense sticks. I'm all out now."

"Have we used up the TARDIS's supply already," the Doctor asked, tilting his head.

"The TARDIS has her own supply?"

"Considering I use them as well, I should hope so."

"I've just been using the ones mum gave me," she explained. "Where do you keep 'em around here?"

The Doctor thought for a moment. "The only stash I know of is in my bedroom."

Rose grinned. "I guess we're going to your bedroom, them." She turned towards her bedroom, and reached inside to grab something.

While she was occupied the Doctor flitted his gaze around. _Do we keep them anywhere else, dear?_

The TARDIS gave a low, apologetic thrum in response.

The Doctor blinked, then formed an incredulous glare. _You've had this night planned since the day I stole you, haven't you?!_ The TARDIS sent him an image of two hands raised defensively, but not seriously. He bit back a grumble as Rose turned back around, holding two cups of tea. She held out one for him, which he gladly accepted.

They walked in silence, not prying each other for conversation nor asking about her nightmare, just strolling through the TARDIS, sipping tea while their free hands wove together and swung idly between them. They finally approached a dark cherry-wood door. Rose stood back a little, expecting it to be locked only to find that it swung open easily. At least it did for the Doctor.

Instead of stepping in, the Doctor leaned against the doorframe and nodded at her. "Ladies first," he said with a wink.

Rose rolled her eyes and walked passed. "Ever the charmer."

"I can't remember a time where I wasn't," he remarked cheekily.

Hardwood met her bare feet as she stepped into the room, and she gave a long whistle. While her bedroom mirrored a contemporary young adult's, the Doctor's held a stark contrast. At the heart of the room, the same position as in her room, was a large king-sized four-poster bed. The head of the bed was masked by the shadow of the upstairs private library that spanned across three walls. Even without the library, there were still books scattered everywhere one could look, stacked on the floor, cluttered on the night table, and resting on the steps of the spiral staircase.

Rose finally mouthed around a word of astonishment upon seeing the chandelier above their heads. "I've never… been inside your bedroom before," Rose said breathlessly. "But I have a feeling…this is new to you."

The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Apparently," he explained. "_This_ regeneration wanted something 'classy' this time."

Rose shook her head and bit her lip. "I _so_ don't belong in this room."

The Doctor instantly protested. "Oh, don't say that," he exclaimed exuberantly. He walked around his companion to one of the cupboards across the room, walking lithely over scads of books. "You're welcome any time. I trust you in here. Now." He set his now empty cup of tea on a tall stack of paperbacks. "Where did I put them?"

As the Doctor rummaged, Rose trekked about, scrutinizing and admiring the room until she met the bed. She set her cup on the nightstand, and as she plopped down on the bedside she thought of reaching for one of the many books by her feet, before she bounced to test the springs and realized how comfortable she was. With a content sigh, she flopped on her back to face the soothing candlelight of the chandelier.

"Aha," the Doctor exclaimed, grabbing a handful of incense sticks. "Found 'em, Rose!" Upon turning around, his elated smile turned into one of fondness. He stepped over book piles until he reached the bed. He sat the sticks on the other nightstand and sat on the bedside across from Rose, allowing himself a moment of peace to watch her stomach shift up and down with her deep breathing, her eyes closed and her face more relaxed than he'd ever seen it.

"All right, you," he murmured, moving himself more fully onto the bed so he could easily scoop up his sleeping companion. "Let's get you back to your room." Before the Doctor could touch her, the TARDIS hummed in his mind. The Doctor shook his head. "She's fast asleep. She won't wake up." The TARDIS gave another rebuttal. The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Well,_ what_? Do you expect her to spend the night in my room?"

He didn't wait for the TARDIS's answer, for he already knew it. He tilted his head to shoot a glare at the ceiling. _You _have_ been planning this!_ He exhaled, though he couldn't find himself to be disappointed at all, really. _Very well, then. She stays._

Carefully, trying not to jar her too much, he placed an arm under Rose's knees and another under her shoulders, delicately positioning her head over a large blue pillow and the rest of her under dark blue covers. Nodding resolutely at the assurance that she was comfortable, he began shifting away from the bed. The TARDIS prodded at his mind.

The Doctor exhaled sharply. _What is it now?_ The TARDIS gave a few more prods. If anyone else was listening to the conversation between him and his ship, that's all they were; prods. But to the man in pinstripes who owned the ship, they were words, always clear as day.

_Aren't you supposed to be _guarding_ her?_

_She'll be fi-_ The Doctor was cut off by a short grumble and the tugging of the duvet beneath his knees. He looked down to see a distraught frown spreading across his companion's features. The blankets rumpled again as Rose tugged an arm free, her fingers fisting over the covers, as if reaching for something. The Doctor's hand made an involuntary move, gliding across the blanket to wrap around her own. Warmth spread through him when Rose gave a hum of approval.

He steeled himself a moment of brief consideration. Then, he shot another glare at the ship, and began shrugging himself out of his coat and trousers. After those two articles of clothing were tossed to the floor, he pulled back his side of the covers.

Rose could feel the hand that had joined hers slip away, and before she could give a whine of objection, that familiar hand had returned to smoothly find her waist.

* * *

Semi-consciousness, Rose quickly found, was odd. Hours previously, she found it to be an almost horrific and confusing state. However, as she shifted in bed only to be tugged back into place against a thin, yet oddly comfortable wall, Rose was quickly thinking otherwise.

The warm exhale of breath tickled her hair and an arm wrapped around shoulders while the other arm tightened around her waist. A familiar voice above her muttered something unintelligible, and Rose quickly gathered that he wasn't _just_ cuddling her.

The Doctor was asleep.

Rose only took a moment to think, smugly, that she could probably use another hour of sleep, and nuzzled back against his chest, sinking deeper in his embrace. The Doctor nuzzled back, his mouth pressing against her golden hair.

At first, they only did this when either of them had a nightmare or returned from a particularly perilous adventure. However, ever since a lockless door was added, connecting both of their rooms, this was how a lot of their evenings were spent, sharing the other's room, chattering away, just enjoying their companionship. Another thing that became constant was that the incense sticks mainly stayed in the Doctor's room.

That first night that Rose and the Doctor spent together was the night that the new door appeared. The Doctor woke up to it in the morning, finding the door next to the cupboard where he kept the incense sticks. Rose awoke shortly after and noticed the addition as well. She also realized the position she was currently in and blush swiftly heated her face. Before she began her apology the Doctor spoke first.

"Do you really find me dashing," he asked with a smug grin.


	4. Do You Still Burn?

* I referenced "Christmas Invasion". Happy December to all!

Do You Still Burn?

Burning.

Harsh light spun and danced within my head. I could see it in the corners of my eyes, feel it in the back of my skull until it curled round to the front. I thought the blaze had been extinguished, but something went wrong, terribly, horribly wrong. It, this _new_ body, was trying to fail me. All of it was new; the burning, the eyes, the skull. These new things were mine now, and they already appeared to feel everything with startling clarity, even with blinded vision.

Voices.

Just two voices, a male and a female. _Blimey, why do I feel cotton in my ears?_ Their words were muffled, but I could just make out hints of confusion in the hesitant lexis. I think I know these voices; one was shrill while the other sounded deep. I was having trouble placing their faces, though. _Ah. I'm one to talk. I haven't even seen _my _face yet. _

The conversation was exchanged somewhere above me. They seemed so far off.

The grating, oddly comforting sound of a door hinge sifted through. Followed by the closing of a door, a new voice chimed through me. The feminine voice held such lucidity and warmth. I know this woman! Her voice sounded so clear. Her presence was defined as well, radiating with kindness and her usual compassionate concern. The two other presences were detached. I couldn't feel them as much as I felt her.

In what seemed like moments, the hard ground beneath my back slid away until I was laying on soft, worn bedding. My jacket had disappeared as well, replaced by more soft and flimsy material. Disappointing, really. I was rather fond of that jacket, or at least I used to be. _Do I still like leather _now_?_

The burning in my mind was no longer as vicious, but still resided, a trivial pang that wrapped around my temples. The twinge was ignorable, as I was still focused on her presence which had yet to leave my side. Literally. The slight dip in the mattress told me she was sitting right next to me, as if I needed further proof. Why could I feel her and not the others?

Ah, one of the other voices had returned, the shrill one, speech conversational with a touch of worry. Their talk was quick, until the shrill voice made a suggestion of something, eliciting a defensive finality in my…oh, what's the word…Oh, _companion_! That's what I call her. My companion. And…Now, that's strange. _I've seem to forgotten _my_ name. _That's all right. Perfectly normal post regeneration.

Regeneration! _That's_ what I had been doing._ That must be why I'm like this. I was wondering why I'd passed out. Oh yes, just another regeneration…for which I _cannot_ remember the reason. Was my companion there when I regenerated? Does she know what happened? And why has she stopped talking?_

There was silence, and then I felt something round and flat press against one side of my chest, then to the other. Even though I could hear her better than the others, I still felt the cotton in my ears. I was just able to hear her mentioning my two hearts. She'd been listening for my heartbeats.

I hadn't seen myself yet, so I knew that my companion and I were both confused. I didn't know me just as much as she didn't know me. Neither of us could predict what I was going to be like, not right now, and yet she wasn't abandoning me. She was looking after me.

I wished I could open my mouth, give her my thanks. I wished I could open my eyes so that we may talk face to face. I remembered what she looked like.

This woman that I had known for a solid year had beautiful, flowing blond hair that sometimes held minute tones of brown at the roots. That wide smile that always curled excitedly upwards at the first mark of adventure would always grace her face. And she had wonderfully bright hazel eyes.

No…Not hazel…

Her eyes had been taken away from me. For a short time, those eyes had vanished, replaced by blinding gold light, but I brought them back. I forced the burning in her head to fade into my own. That's why I was like this, tucked away in bed and staving off some vile after-effects of regeneration.

I wanted to tell her that my ailment wasn't unheard of, that this sometimes happened during or after regeneration. She needn't worry. In fact, _I_ should be worrying about _her_. Everything was coming back in disarrayed fragments, and her presence seemed to help.

_Where is the TARDIS? Where are we now? Did we land in the correct time and place? Is it Christmas? Did Jack come with us? Did we vanquish the Daleks? Do you still burn?_

No, wait, she shouldn't burn any longer. I pulled all that energy out of her, I made sure of it.

Her voice shattered my thoughts, bringing my focus straight to the present, to her. I heard her say to the other woman to leave me alone, and the shrill one produced an annoyed grumble, but relented. Then, the room lapsed into an empty silence, and I read it as their departure from the room.

_…Oi! It's fantastic that your mother left the room, but what makes you think _you_ need to leave?!_

Hmm…'Fantastic'…Doesn't seem to fit my vocabulary anymore…Perhaps it'll fit the teeth. I'll need to run some tests la – _Agh!_ I sighed a bit harshly as raw regeneration energy passed my lips and into the air, making my muscles tense up when the pang in my temples intensified. A small bump in recovery.

My body was in stasis, the only thing that could make it worse would be sleep disruption. Otherwise, the process should go as planned, if a bit extensive.

* * *

I heard her voice only once. Amongst the shouting, banging and clattering, her concerned tone outstood all the racket filtering heavily into the room and made the ache in my head dull fractionally. Just like that, her voice was gone, allowing all other noises to bombard me.

The cotton from my ears had faded hours ago and I was now able to distinguish between Jackie and Mickey, who were both shouting in terror. I heard Jackie shout something in regards to death by a Christmas tree. That must've been their assailant. _Really, a Christmas tree? Not exactly the most threateni-And that would be the Christmas tree tearing through the bedroom wall… Never mind._ What was a homicidal tree doing in the flat?

I heard Mickey's gasp of surprise and Jackie's shrill cry, but my companion was silent. Perhaps…the tree was after her, and Mickey and Jackie were simply in line of fire. That almost made sense. She's had more of an impact regarding cataclysmic events than her mum and idiot boyfriend. Not that they aren't important. Of course, I have to say that, or risk getting smacked by the mother. Now, when it comes to Mickey…

The Christmas tree had done its damage and was now simply whirling madly. I couldn't hear her. I only felt her presence, mucking about in the room. _Why have you stopped talking? What are you looking for? Where did the tree come from? Why won't you to tell me if you're all right?_

There was a shudder directly to my left. I breathed a sigh of relief when I felt my companion touching my hand, unfurling my fingers to have them wrap around familiar metal. _So, that's where my sonic went._ She'd kept it safe this whole time. Suddenly, her hand shot away, and I instantly felt bereft, and concerned.

The whirling of the tree grew closer to me and my companion, whose tension I could feel in waves. That's when she leaned in close to me, and the pain in my mind suddenly lifted. Consciousness was returning, and I already knew I had explaining to do. I never told her of regeneration, not in detail, at least. After I woke up, after the bloody tree had been dealt with, after I was assured of her safety, I'd have to give her an explanation. I'd have to tell-

"Help me."

_Rose!_

Without pause, I bolted upright and aimed my sonic screwdriver at the Christmas tree to make it short circuit. And by 'short circuit', I mean 'blow up'. Destroying it was an accident, really. Keeping it intact would mean the easy work of dissecting it, but my patience immediately ran out. I wanted it gone, I wanted it away from Rose. I heard Rose's breath of relief from behind me, calming me down exponentially. Unfortunately, she'd woken me too soon. And when the headaches returned, I knew we were in trouble. _The explanation may have to wait._

* * *

The regeneration was going terribly wrong. The burning in my head swelled over the rest of my body, thrumming everywhere like a third heartbeat. After collapsing on the balcony outside Jackie's home, my entire world was nothing but darkness. Nothing registered anymore in my comatose state, not Jackie, not Mickey. But somehow I could still feel Rose. However, it wasn't as intense as before. I could now only hear her as if she were mumbling. Her natural presence had even decreased in strength, but she was still there.

I must've imprinted on her, to some degree, when I regenerated. For Time Lords, it wasn't unheard of to develop an attachment to a being that you regenerated in front of. Although, it was a tad strange to become attached to a _human_ in such a manner. Perhaps she felt a connection as well.

While unconscious, I could only understand _her_ presence, no one else's. I heard her crying, heard the hopelessness filling her desperate voice. For the next few hours, I was listening to her give up on me.

However, if she didn't feel a connection, why would she waste her time making the idiot help her carry me back to the TARDIS? I'll admit, I didn't like simply being dumped onto the grating and left there, but even after everything the day had wrought, she was still trying to take of care of me.

For a while, the TARDIS was quiet, occasionally being broken by light conversation between Rose and Mickey. I think she mentioned something about having to go help her mum, and soon they both left the console room, the doors slamming shut behind them. Leaving me alone.

I'd heard her scream. Something just outside the door was threatening her, and I was lying there useless. My hearts jumped sharply when everything went silent again. I was lying still, but in my mind, I was going mad.

The heady scent of herbs filled my senses. The burning inside me was now dulling gently, and I was able to think more clearly. I just wasn't able to move yet, to wake up, unable to get to her. And was that…tannin I smelled? I could almost feel my synapses heating up. My nose scrunched as the scent of warm tea hit me, and I realized I was slowly waking up.

Right, then. To hell if she's decided to abandon me!

Nothing in this universe is gonna make me abandon _her_.


End file.
